Some days we can’t see our way through: not to the end of the road, this season of life, or even just to the end of our living room. (If you have small people in your house, you probably can’t EVER see the way through your living room. Unless you’re like, a super mom. There are none of those in my house.)
There are a lot of things these days around us that we can’t find a way through: both literally and figuratively. In a practical way, no one ever told me that this September’s alternate name is ‘Construction September’. Yesterday we had an appointment at 10am, and at 945 the trucks tore apart the road directly in front of our driveway and we ended up having to be home all day.
And both boys have reached a stage where they WANT EVERY SINGLE TOY EVERY SINGLE SECOND and the favorite toy of the second is the one that the other brother is playing with. So we did that a LOT yesterday.
On other days, because of our road construction, we’ve had to park around the corner and walk home. And with groceries, two boys who insist on running after the trucks, the diaper bag, water bottles, and everything else we seem to have to take with us on EVERY SINGLE TRIP, one block is a rough walk home.
Over the weekend, they closed the H3. In normal places one road closing is not the end of the world, but when there are only three ways to get over the mountains, taking away the most used one is a big deal. And when I took a different road down to Honolulu yesterday, the exact off ramp that I needed was loaded up with construction trucks. My GPS, of course, rerouted me around to the EXACT SAME EXIT because it thought that I just wasn’t aware enough to get on the exit the first time, so then I had to go the opposite way and ended up somewhere in Honolulu trying to find my way back out again.
And right now, we are also waiting for a way through our lives. We are waiting to see how long we will be in Hawaii, where we will go next, what we will be doing, and how we will do it. And unlike the limited ways through the mountains, the possible outcomes of our lives right now span many different jobs and places. (One could almost go crazy trying to figure out which one will happen. Not that that has happened HERE, of course.)
In the meantime, surrounded by no inkling of our future lives and enough no parking signs to discourage anyone, we try to do the next right thing, because the future, the next minute, the next hour and the next year don’t matter so much right now. All that matters is knowing the next step. Helping with another fight over toys, writing another blog, taking another class, or getting up and going to work in the morning.
We do the next right thing.
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